And There Was Mourning
by Dusted Pyxie
Summary: Solace found in nothing when the shadows overwhelm. Nothing that can save him from this twisted realm. Contamination of the mind and confusion of the heart. They take sadistic pleasure in tearing him apart.
1. He Seperated the Light From the Darkness...

AN: I haven't read the books in over a year or two, so bear with any mistakes/ things that don't quite match up. Of course, I can't believe I'm doing this. I must be insane… kill me now… *gurgles and dies, but fingers keep typing*  
  


And There Was Mourning  
  
Chapter One: He Seperated the Light From the Darkness: The First Day  


  
The Great Hall buzzed with excitement as the students sat down for dinner. A rumor had gotten around that Peeves had done something so completely horrible Dumbledore was thinking of having him locked up… somehow. No one knew what it was, or even if it was true, but they were sure there would be an announcement that night. Only one girl realized that two of her friends wern't at the table.  
  
"God--agh--geez!" Harry swore, trying to yank his foot out of that trick step, "Why didn't you warn me!?" he demanded of Ron who was toiling equally as hard to dislodge his head and shoulder.  
  
"I forgot, okay?!" Ron's muffled voice replied, "This is all your fault! If you'd been paying attention you wouldn't have gotten stuck and I wouldn't have run into you and landed like this!"  
  
"My fault!" Harry exclaimed, finally managing to get himself out with a loud POP, "If you hadn't been--" he looked around. "Ron?" Ron had disappeared.   
  
The stair belched loudly.  
  
Harry was so startled by grotesque noise he fell straight back onto the step head first.  
  
His head fell smoothly through the step and his foot caught a solid stair above it to prevent him from falling completely in. Harry blinked and wished his hands were there to set his glasses firmly on his head before they fell off. He was looking down upon a barren landscape. Dead, twisted trees writhed out of the ground, their gray branches creaking and swaying in a non-existant breeze.  
  
That's when Harry felt the cold breath on his neck. It was like ice, no, colder than ice, a small, piercing wisp of air that sent violent chills down his spine. The breath turned into bony fingers, reaching up around Harry's neck. Daring not to make a sound, Harry held absolutely still. The fingers dug their nails into his flesh, causing Harry to flinch and cry out. Just then he felt someone grab his shoulders and yank him out of the step. He blinked at the harsh torch light and saw Hermione looked disapprovingly at him.  
  
"How could you fall into that step after so many years at-- Harry! Your neck!" Hermione suddenly stopped her lecture when Harry stumbled against the wall and his head drooped. Harry brought a trembling hand up to the back of his neck and felt warm, sticky blood. He stared at it, not comprehending what had happened.  
  
"Oh gosh, how did this happen? Look at you! I have to get you to Madame Pomfrey! She'll fix you right up! Here," she tore a small piece of her hem off her robe and handed it to Harry, "Keep that on it, pressure is the best thing for bleeding." Harry half-heartedly put the cloth against the wound and trudged after Hermione to hospital wing, his head spinning crazily, the last few minutes--or was it hours?--events getting jumbled in his mind. Against Hermione's protests, Harry took the cloth off his neck. He looked at it warily, expecting to see a lot of blood. Instead, what little blood had soaked onto it spelled out a message.  
  
"Your friend is dead."  
  
Hermione felt more than heard Harry fall out of step with her. His soft footsteps had silently cut off and she just felt his presense moving farther away. Then he screamed. That bloodcurdling scream that would haunt Hermione in her dreams for the rest of her life. She whirled around quickly and saw him fall, striking his head against the wall.  
  
"Harry!" she cried, running to him. Harry had doubled over into a ball, trembling, shaking his head.  
  
"No, no, no," he repeated to himself, rocking back and forth like a small child. "It's not true... not true... not..."  
  
Hermione shook his shoulder insistantly. "Harry, talk to me, look at me, what happened?" Harry tried taking deep breaths to calm himself, to make himself think rationally through his pain, internal and external., but all he could do was reach out a shaky hand and give Hermione the bloody cloth. Hermione took it gingerly between two fingers and wrinkled her nose.  
  
"Ew, Harry, that's disgusting," she complained, starting to get a bit annoyed with her friend. "Now get up you big baby. Can't the Great Harry Potter deal with a little pain?" Harry looked up at her, fear, desperation, and incredulity shining in his eyes.  
  
"Don't you see it?" he asked her hoarsely.  
  
"See what?" Hermione demanded, grabbing Harry's arm and yanking him to his feet. "A sixteen year old boy who got his head caught in the trick step, got an ouchie and can't stand the sight of blood?" She threw the bloody cloth on the ground, "That thing's gross. You shouldn't have taken it off the cut." Hermione started half-dragging Harry down the hallway, his whimpers and protests falling on deaf ears, "Look, I was concerned before, but it's only a cut Harry! There's no need to scream and whine and freak out about it. Christ! You've had worse!"  
  
They trudged along in silence for the next few minutes until they reached the infirmary where Hermione left Harry to the care of Madame Pomfrey. Hermione walked out the door and began to head back to the Great Hall when she stopped and turned around. She walked back until she reached the door but stopped, simply waiting for Harry. As much as she might have complained about how he was being a silly baby, she still cared about his well-being. Plus, something nagged at the back of her mind. Harry had dealt with worse injuries without suffereing so much as a grimace. Now he had a minor cut on his neck and he goes beserk. Something didn't add up.  
  
She would have waited for Harry until he came out, but soon it came time to head to her next class and she didn't want to be late.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Harry didn't come back in time for dinner. Nor did he appear any time that night. Hermione was worried about him. She lay on her bed that night re-reading "Hogwarts: A History" for the umpteenth time, not really seeing the words that were in front of her. Dinner had been a quiet affair without Harry there. Hermione sighed and rolled over on to her back, staring at the ceiling. What was wrong with Harry? The feeling that something was entirely wrong lay in her stomach like a lump of lead.  
  
"Hey, Herm," Lavander popped her head down, startling Hermione out of her revive, "What's up with you today? You've been awfully quiet."  
  
"Hmm?" Hermione blinked, "What do you mean quiet? I'm always a bit quiet, aren't I?"  
  
Lavander laughed, "No. You're always talking about 'Harry this' and 'Harry that' and 'Harry said blah blah blah'. I was beginning to think you didn't like him anymore."  
  
"Lavander!!" Hermione exclaimed, scandalized, "I don't like him!"  
  
"Sure," Lavander said skeptically, "Whatever you say."  
  
"He's just a friend! Besides," Hermione's voice fell, "He got hurt today so he hasn't been around."  
  
"Oh! So _that's_ why it was so quiet at dinner!" Lavander said, eyes lighting up, "I was wondering why he and Ron weren't bickering over something."  
  
Hermione's breath froze in her throat. Ron. She had forgotten all about him in the excitement with Harry today! And now that she thought about it she hadn't seen him today either. "Oh my God," she moaned, her head falling back on her pillow, "I'm such an idiot!"  
  
"Of course you are, dear," Lavander said benignly, "Now why don't you go down to the hospital wing and say hi to dear little Harry, okay?"  
  
Hermione simply moaned and buried her head in her pillow. She didn't even want to think of what had happened to Ron. She'd find out in the morning, she guessed.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"And then Hermione brought me to the infirmary," Harry finished with a sigh, leaning back in his chair.   
  
Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought, "This is very serious Harry. Are you _sure_ you saw writing in the blood?"  
  
"Yes!" Harry was exhasperated. "Positive!"  
  
"And what did you think it said?"  
  
"It said..." Harry took a breath, "It said 'Your friend is dead'. And Ron was gone and I haven't seen him all day and I don't know where he is, and for all I know he _is_ dead and... and... and..."  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore snapped. Harry sucked in a breath. Professor Dumbledore had never said a harsh word to him in his life. "Calm down. Ron went on a small trip with a few other students. You'll see him in six days."  
  
"But he--"  
  
"I know what you thought you saw," Dumbledore's voice softened and he looked at Harry pityingly, "And you're wrong, I'm sorry. Ron is with some other students and--"  
  
"But the step--"  
  
"Is nothing but desolidified stone. I fell into it quite a bit in my days as a student. Harry, I want you to go back to the infirmary and get some rest and--"  
  
"You think I'm crazy," Harry accused him, emerald eyes narrowing, "I'm not! I know what I saw! There's someone or something out there that's--" Dumbledore snapped his fingers and Madame Pomfrey came into the room looking concerned.  
  
"I want you to take Harry back to the hospital wing and help him get a good night's rest. He needs it," Dumbledore added pointedly. Madame Pomfrey nodded knowingly and took Harry's arm.  
  
"Come along child, we'll get you set up in a nice warm bed and--" Harry began to struggle out of her grip.  
  
"I'm not crazy!" he cried, trying to get out of Madame Pomfrey's grip of iron, "I'm not! Let me go! I'm not crazy..."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  



	2. He Seperated Waters from Waters: The Sec...

AN: Okay, yeah... I still don't have many reviews, but hey, some people are interested in what's going to happen, so I'm gonna write for them. *SIGH* I really wanted people to notice me, to notice my original ideas, my underdeveloped writing talent, but hey, I guess I'll finish this out and slink back to my anime stuff... *cries*  
  
Chapter 2: Seperation of the Waters: The Second Day  
  
Hermione awoke early the next morning feeling decidedly unrested. She had tossed and turned all night worrying about Harry and Ron. She glanced at the clock. It was still a few hours before breakfast started so Hermione decided to go try to find out where Harry was. Hopefully, where she found Harry, she would find Ron.   
  
First she tried the boy's dorm. A sleepy Neville answered her knock and informed her that neither Harry nor Ron had come to bed that previous night, but heard that Harry had gotten hurt and might still be in the infirmary. Hermione thanked him, swallowing her slight panic, and calmly walked to the hospital wing. She wished she could have apparated, but you couldn't apparate in or out of the Hogwarts castle due to the charms put on it for security reasons. She tiptoed past the Fat Lady and paid Winky and Dobby a quick visit in the kitchens so as not to look too eager to find Harry, though who she thought was watching, she couldn't tell.  
  
Finally she made it to the hospical wing about fifteen minutes later. Hermione spied Madame Pomfrey dozing in a chair behind a desk.  
  
"Excuse me," she said softly. Madame Pomfrey awoke with a start.  
  
"Oh, Hermione, what a surprise, can I help you with something?" she asked, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.  
  
"Yes, you can," Hermione said politely, shifting from foot to foot, "I'd like to see Harry, if it's not too much of a bother." Madame Pomfrey straightened.  
  
"I'm afraid that's not possible," she replied, "He's sleeping right now, which is a miracle considering what he's been through in the past-- Hermione?" When Madame Pomfrey had taken a long blink, Hermione had used that opportunity to slip into the sickroom.  
  
There were a few students in some of the beds and then Hermione found Harry chained to a metal four-poster, tossing fitfully in his sleep.   
  
"Oh Harry," Hermione murmured, "What did you do?" She walked to his bedside and lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. Harry awoke with a start and began thrashing violently around on the bed, the chains straining against the bedframe and cutting into his circulation.  
  
"I'm not crazy dammit!" he cried out. Hermione clapped a hand over his mouth and looked around wildly, hoping that Harry's outburst had not alerted anyone.  
  
"Harry, it's me!" she whispered urgently. Harry turned his wild-eyed gaze to her face and relaxed, heaving a long, heavy sigh.  
  
"I'm sorry," he apologized quietly, "It's been a rough night. Just get me out of here, please!"   
  
"Okay," Hermione whispered back, "Just stay quiet and I'll set you loose. Hold still." She set the tip of her wand to the chains and they fell away noiselessly to the floor. Harry groaned softly and stood up.  
  
"Oi, my aching back," he complained, "Is there somewhere we can go to talk?" Hermione nodded, shushed him, and walked silently to the door where she saw Madame Pomfrey back sound asleep again. They tiptoed past her and made their way back to the Gryffindor common room.  
  
When they arrived no one had stirred yet so they had the common room to themselves for a while. They sat in some comfy chairs, staring into the ever-blazing fire.  
  
"Harry," Hermione began, "Where's Ron?" Harry's mouth opened and closed a few times and Hermione could see the beginning of tears forming in his eyes. "Harry?"  
  
"I don't know," he said quickly, shaking his head as if to clear the horrible memory from it, "He was with me a minute before you found me in the step, and then he... disappeared. The blood told me he was dead, and I guess I'm beginning to believe it."  
  
Hermione looked at Harry strangely, "The blood?"  
  
Harry sighed and looked down at his hands, "On that piece of your robe. You only saw a bloody mess, but I saw a message of Ron's death writtin on it in my blood. I was so scared at the time, I, I didn't know what to think. First I believed it, then I didn't, then Dumbledore said I was crazy, then I belived, and then I didn't, and now I do again! I'm so confused Hermione!" Harry was breathing fast, trying to stay in control of himself.  
  
Hermione looked troubled as she gazed into Harry's eyes, noting how the flames danced and played across his green orbs, even through his glasses, making his pained gaze come alive and sparkle with a determined flare. "What did Professor Dumbledore say to you?" she asked him at last, "He's always been understanding and completely trusting."  
  
"I know," Harry's voice had taken on a deadpan, "He just said I was seeing things, that Ron and many of the other students had taken a trip, that he'd be back in five days... it would be four now, wouldn't it?" he shifted in his seat, "He told me that what I saw in the trick step was only in my over-active imagination. He talked to me like I was a small child, like I was insane and couldn't comprehend what reality was, like he felt sorry for me."  
  
Hermione opened her mouth to say something more, but then a stream of Gryffindor's came pouring out of their dorms, ready to go down to breakfast. She sighed, "I guess we should go eat, huh?" Harry nodded and slowly stood up from his chair.   
  
"Wait," he said suddenly, "won't Madame Pomfrey miss me if I'm not in my bed?" Hermione smiled.  
  
"Remember all those memory charms we had to learn?" Harry frowned.  
  
"I guess I remember I was supposed to learn them, yes," he consented.  
  
"Well, I 'suggested' to Madame Pomfrey that Dumbledore gave you the okay to go. And Dumbledore will just assume that she thought you were okay to go." Hermione smirked.  
  
"You've really changed, haven't you?" Harry commented as they walked down to breakfast, "A few years ago you won't have even thought about putting a spell on a teacher just to help me."  
  
"You've changed me," Hermione's voice became softer, "You showed me that it's okay to live on the wild side occasionally." Harry half-smiled.  
  
When they took their seats at the table, Hermione noticed that a large number of students were missing. She looked at her own table. No Ron. No Ginny. No Fred. One first year, one second year, a third year, and a fourth year were all missing. One student from each year was absent. "This is creepy," Hermione murmured. Harry understood what she meant, also noting the lack of pupils, "Somethings is really wrong."  
  
"No shit," Harry mumbled, "I could've told you that."  
  
"Hush, you git," Hermione smacked him lightly on the arm, "You know what I-- uh oh."  
  
"Uh oh what?" Harry asked tiredly. Hermione pointed to a peeved-looking Dumbledore moving purposefully towards their table, "We should leave. Now." Harry appeared frozen to the spot as he stared at the advancing Headmaster. "Harry!" When Hermione saw that Harry was not going to move on his own, she grabbed his hand and physically dragged him out of the Great Hall.  
  
Harry proved unresponsive until Hermione bodily took him by the shoulders and shook him after returning to the empty common room.  
  
"Harry, what's wrong with you?" Hermione sounded deeply concerned. Harry shook his head, a shock of dark hair falling across his eyes.  
  
"I... I don't know," he sounded genuinely disoriented, staring at the ground, "He...I... we locked eyes... and I just couldn't move, couldn't think... and then we're here..." he looked up into Hermione's worried eyes, "What's happening to me, 'Mione? I'm usually so in control, so focused. I can't concentrate any more, all I know is the here, the now..." His eyes locked with Hermione's.  
  
"Well, I'm here, now," Hermione whispered, "and we're going to get through this. We've gone through everything else together..." They stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity, and then Hermione felt herself unconsciously pull Harry towards her, their lips meeting in a sweet, intense kiss.  
  
Harry broke away first, backing up slowly, eyes wide, and before Hermione could say anything, he fled back to his room.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Harry slammed the door shut and leaned against it, breathing hard. "What the hell did I just do?" he demanded from himself. He had just kissed Hermione. HERMIONE. No, he reminded himself, SHE kissed HIM. But still, it was... Hermione. The mousy little girl he had argued with, played with, adventured with, studied--however infrequently-- with. It felt like a floodgate had been opened up inside of him, all the emotions, feelings, logical reasonings, boiling inside like a raging river. He didn't like her like that, did he? No, he didn't. And why did this have to happen now, of all times? Ron was missing, possibly dead, as were dozens of other students, why on earth would sensible Hermione choose now to let him know her feelings for him? Harry knew his heart belonged with someone else, not his best girl friend, but his mind told him that maybe, just maybe, if he let things continue, he'd find a support to cling to in the rough days he knew would be ahead. Shoving what his heart was screaming aside, Harry decided to follow what his mind was telling him-- go with Hermione.  
  
AN: *ducks flying veggies coming from H/H haters and supporters alike* I"M SORRY! I just had to do that though! You'll understand when you're older... like... when chapter six comes out... Thanx for reading and reviewing *sarcastic* I loooooove all the reviews i've been getting, what, all 9 of them? Love the support guys, nice to know you care.


	3. He Planted Seeds That Would Bear Fruit: ...

I forgot the disclaimer in the first chapter: None of the charies are mine. I'm borrowing them to throw them into my warped perception of the world, twisting them way OOC, then grinding them into pulp. Please don't sue, I'll return them in just as good condition as they came!

AN: Okay, I've been cranky lately. I'm just a bitter old lady (wait, HOW old am I now? 15, 16?) who isn't used to getting so few reviews on something this big. But I can deal. No more forum-plugging for me. Thank you to everyone who did bother to review helpfully. Seriously, suggestions and requests are welcome! I've still got to get through the 4th, 5th and 6th days, and I have NO CLUE what I'm going to do. So anything you want to see happen (maybe) let me know, and I'll see if I can do it. Just no rabid-sex (LOL Chamed!), okay? I don't do that (yet… I'm not legal yet…) Yeah. 

Oh yeah! THANK YOU to Rose Tangle for giving me a REAL review. It helped. (Yes, it did feel a bit like a flame, but I also know constructive criticism when I see it!)

So now, a few notes: 1) I know people have been acting WAY OOC. Two reasons: one, if you haven't noticed, strange things are going on, Harry's head got kinda messed with in chapter two when they were at breakfast. Two, it's been a few years, people change. Hell, I went from nerd-of-the-world when I was 13 to miss-hyper-"hottie (a nickname)"-actress-flirt now, and I'm 15. Think about it. Harry's been having to deal with being "Mr. Great" for quite a few years now, don't you think it might cause a little bit of emotional strain? In addition, Hermione's had to deal with whatever other crazy stunts and disasters Harry and Ron have been through, so she's probably a little toughened and not as uptight. 

Well, those are MY theories at least. Please bear with me then. I'll try to do better.

And the titles of each chapter. They're really important to the theme, so I won't give it away, but if you just think about them a little bit "Read between the lines" as my favorite English teacher likes to say, you might see it.

Chapter 1: He Separated the Light From the Darkness—Ron disappeared. Metaphorically speaking, Ron could have been the light/darkness that was separated from Harry (the opposing light/darkness)

Chapter 2: He Separated Waters from Waters—Harry made a separation between heart and mind. I also made some references to "flood gate" and "boiling river", but I guess some people missed it.

Chapter 3: Let's see if you can figure it out, okay? If you still don't get it, ask me. And after whatever chapter is the end, 6 or 7 I'm thinking would make a LOT of sense, I'll explain the REAL meaning behind the titles if you can't figure it out. 

SORRY FOR RAMBLING! ENJOY THE NEXT INSTALLMENT OF AND THERE WAS MOURNING:

Chapter 3: He Planted Seeds That Would Bear Fruit: The Third Day

Harry sat silently by the lake staring at the silvery reflection of the moon over the water, his arms wrapped tightly against his slender body, his skin eerily pale in the silver moonlight. He needed some alone time, away from everyone else, away from Hermione, away from the memories, away from his classes, just time to think. Harry ran his thumb over the cut on his shoulder, watching as the warm blood trickled over his icy body, marveling over how thrilling it was to inflict pain upon himself. It made him feel in control, knowing he had the power to suck his very own life from himself. At least he had control over something in his life. It was nice to know he could end his life whenever he chose.

He shivered in the chill December night air. It was stupid to go outside without a shirt on, but Harry wasn't in a safe, responsible mood. He was tired of being The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter The Great. He wasn't even sure if he knew who Harry Potter was anymore. His whole life was a façade, a show for people so that they'd see what they wanted to see: someone who was in control, someone who could do no wrong, someone who knew nothing of the word "fear". Oh, Harry knew about fear all right. That icy tendril was forever creeping upon his heart, intertwining with his soul. Harry feared life. He feared the day Voldemort would return. He feared befriending anyone for the fear that Voldemort would come after them too. 

Harry was so consumed with his thoughts he didn't hear the footsteps coming from behind him. He didn't feel the worried gaze cast over him. He jumped when he felt a warm hand on his cold shoulder.

"Why do you do this Harry?" Hermione's voice was pained.

"It's my body," Harry replied, keeping his gaze at some far-off point over the lake, "I can do what I want."

"Other people care about your body too, ya know," Hermione sat down beside him. She wiped a trickle of blood from one of his numerous cuts, "In muggle society, they'd have you psycho-analyzed for this."

"Then it's a good thing I'm not a bloody muggle," Harry snapped. Hermione flinched, then looked away. Harry's features softened a bit, "I'm sorry. It's just all this stress…"

"I understand," Hermione said, "I suppose." They sat in silence for a few minutes until Hermione started to shiver. "How can you stand this? It has to be near freezing out here." Harry simply shrugged.

"Do you want my shirt?" he motioned to the sweater lying on the ground a few feet away, "I'm not going to use it." Hermione monitored Harry's judgement, and deciding he wouldn't use the sweater for himself, pulled it on. There was another awkward pause. Hermione took to studying Harry. He had aged so much over the past few years, it was hard to tell that he was the same person. His prepubescent features had matured into a handsome face with delicately chiseled features. His green eyes were hardened with the pain that had accumulated over the years. Harry's forever-messy hair rustled in the breeze, the chill wind tousling the unruly locks in a wild, appealing way. Hermione noticed how all the rigorous Quidditch practice had paid off, leaving Harry with a lean, muscular body. She noticed as his muscles ever so slightly tensed up and shuddered in a small shiver.

"Let's go inside," Hermione suggested gently. Harry didn't reply but simply stood up, silently voicing his assent. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Gryffindor house was silent as they entered hand in hand. At some point during their walk Hermione's hand had found its way in Harry's and they continued on like that, Hermione's small warm hand clasping Harry's larger, icy hand. The common room was deserted, as was to be expected at this time of night. Harry walked Hermione over to the girl's dorm.

"Good night," he said--a bit stiffly, he noted. Hermione smiled up at him.

"Good night to you too," she said, "And please," her face became solemn, "Don't hurt yourself any more, okay?"

"I promise," Kiss her! Harry's mind screamed at him. He leaned down and gently brushed Hermione's lips with his. "See you in the morning," he began to walk away but Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Maybe we could… you know… stay up for a while longer," Hermione said shyly, her lashes lowered over her eyes coyly.

Now look what you've gotten me into! Harry scolded the inner-workings of his mind. He put on a half-smile, "If you really want to…" he didn't get to finish his sentence before Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and captured his lips in an intense lock. She pushed him against the stone wall and began exploring his jaw and neck with her mouth until returning to his lips.

Harry was taken by surprise. Since when had Hermione been so… feisty, dare he use that word? This was a side of her that he had never seen. No, he had seen it before, in her determination, her drive to survive and win and succeed. He felt her fingers tangle in his hair and her other hand roamed his bare chest. Harry felt a pang of guilt that he was not actually enjoying this as he should be. He tried to respond like he felt he should, but just wasn't into it. 

He let her continue for another minute or so and finally pushed her away gently. "'Mione, I'm just not in the mood tonight, ya know?" Hermione looked a bit hurt, but nodded.

"I understand," she replied, "'Night." She retreated to her room without saying another word. 

Harry sighed heavily and retreated to his own room. He glanced in a mirror outside the door and winced to find some defined bruise-and-bite marks on his neck and jaw line. That would result in some teasing the next morning. He opened the door and was surprised to find the light on and Neville and Dean sitting on their beds, talking quietly and worriedly. Their heads snapped up at the sound of the door opening and relief flooded their faces.

"Oh thank God Harry!" Never exclaimed in a hushed whisper, "We were worried about you!" Harry looked around the room.

"Where's Seamus?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione got little to no sleep that night. So many thoughts and emotions were twisting around in her mind it was hard to keep up with one thought to the next. Why had she acted like that, outside the dorms? It's not like she's that super-attracted to Harry that she'd-- attack him like that. It also bothered her that Harry was so unresponsive. He seemed interested, but didn't really act like it. Hermione shoved it aside as him being concerned about Ron. Ron. An icy grip of fear clutched her heart. She hadn't really thought about him yet. When Harry told her about the step and the cloth, she hadn't believed him. Dumbledore would know best, right? He's always been kind, and almost always correct and taken the right course of action, so when Harry had been chained up like that, Hermione wasn't sure that all of Harry's mind was quite all there. But she hadn't seen Ron all day. She hadn't seen him yesterday either. All those students were missing. Dumbledore was acting so strangely. What happened to Ron? The other kids? What if he was indeed dead? Strange things did happen to Harry, and warnings like that weren't taken lightly.

Finally, Hermione could cry. She simply let her tears wash away the frustration and the fear of not knowing, not being in control. She didn't know what she'd do if Ron was dead. He couldn't be! Not like this! A cold determination settled on Hermione's soul. She would not rest until her friend, friends, were found, safe and alive.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Harry awoke the next morning to a pounding on his door. He groggily opened it to see Hermione fly straight into his arms.

"They're gone, Harry!" she was breathing face, "Parvati and… and…"

"Lavander too?" Harry guessed. Hermione nodded.

"Everyone!" she sobbed, "They're just… gone! Last night I decided that I wasn't going to get emotional, I was going to be rational and get everyone through this, but I wasn't expecting to wake up to an empty room!"

"Hermione, calm down!" Harry ordered firmly. Neville stared at them from his bed.

"Dean…" he whispered, "Look at them. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" There was a long pause, "Dean?"

Dean, too, was missing.

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A solemn Harry, Hermione, and Neville walked silently down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Normally the large room was bustling with hungry students, but today it seemed so empty, almost half the usual number of students was absent.

"Harry, what's going on?" a frightened Neville asked him. No one was eating. Almost everyone was milling about in confusion looking for missing peers. 

"I don't know, Neville," Harry said grimly, "But I swear to you I'm going to find out." The three remaining Gryffindor 6th years sat down at their table and merely sat in silence, pondering what was happening.

What's happening? I know weird things always happen, bad things seem to happen every year when Harry's around, but this is the weirdest. What happened to everyone? I'm kinda scared. I wish I could do something, but I can't. Nothing I ever do turns out right. I just hope Harry figures something out soon before more of us disappear. Why isn't Dumbledore doing anything?

What have I gotten myself into? I just volunteered to fix this. I promised that I'd fix it. I can't do that! I don't even have the foggiest idea where to start. I guess the trick step, but… I doubt EVERYONE fell into i. I mean, Dean was there last night, and now he's gone. Who's doing this? Normally I would jump to Voldemort, but there's signs that go along with that. My scar hasn't hurt since… oh… last year during that big catastrophe. I don't know what I'm doing any more. Hermione looks so weary and drained, I feel bad about leading her on like that. Why am I doing this anyway? Is there really a purpose to getting close with her? All I've ever found from getting close to people is heartbreak, why am I doing this?!

Why is he looking at me like that? Damn you Harry! I'll never figure him out, never. God, why am I thinking of him right now?! We're in the middle of a crisis and all I can think about is my bloody love life! But at the same time… Harry's not been himself. I've seen him with other girls and he always looked like he enjoyed kissing, why wasn't he responding any last night? Hell, he even looked like he was enjoying himself at the Yule ball last year when Draco got drunk and Crabbe dared him to kiss Harry. That was sick though, why am I thinking of that? Probably because Harry was having a good time with Cho and I left early to go re-read Hogwarts: A History—again. I swear I know that book by memory now! Let's see, page 257, paragraph three, line seven 'In 1478 Hogwarts befell a tragedy never seen before in recorded history. The Headmaster, Rufus Wallafell, methodically slaughtered all the students and teachers, day by day, for unknown reasons. Many rumors…'

Hermione's eyes widened at her realization. "Harry, I've got it!" Harry and Neville's heads snapped up and stared at her. "This happened before, here at Hogwarts! Students disappeared every day because the—" Hermione vanished in mid-sentence, right before Harry and Neville's stunned eyes.

"Hermione! No!" Harry cried out reaching for the empty air in front of him, "Dammit!" he screamed "What the hell is happening?"

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"Harry, what's going on?" a frightened Neville asked Harry.

"I don't know, Neville," Harry said grimly, "But I swear to you I'm going to find out." They sat down at the mostly deserted table, falling into silence.

After a moment, Hermione gasped and her eyes lit up.

"Harry, I've got it!" Harry and Neville snapped to attention. "This…I… ah blast! Nevermind, I forgot." Hermione sighed. She had just remembered something like this from something she had read, but it left as quickly as it came.

Harry jolted. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen! He knew somewhere deep down in his soul something had just happened, something unnatural. It was like de ja vous, but different. It was as if the same thing had happened before, but the outcome was different. Harry lay his head down in his hands as he began to develop a serious headache.

"Harry, are you okay?" Neville poked him on the shoulder.

"No! I'm not okay!" Harry snapped at him. Neville shrank back, chastised, "People are disappearing and I feel like it's my fault! And there's nothing I can do to stop it because I don't know what's going on!" he pounded a fist onto the table, "I hate my life!"

"Harry," Hermione said gently, lying a hand on Harry's, "You have to calm down and think rationally."

"I don't want to think rationally!" Harry snatched his hand out from Hermione's. Somewhere in his mind Harry knew he was acting childish, irrationally, but he couldn't stop. A small seed of doubt sprouted in his mind, questioning his own control over his mind. It felt as if someone or something was trying to push his normal, controlled self out and let his inner, uncontrollable side loose. It felt like his head was splitting in two. "I… I'm going to skip classes today. I… I can't think, at all…"

Hermione, even in times like this, frowned at him and scolded him severely about the consequences of skipping out on his classes. Harry didn't hear her. A ringing in his ears grew louder and louder with each passing second. The noise of a thousand rushing trains filled his mind, screaming their rage, tearing his mind apart. Harry couldn't tell if he was screaming or not. The pain was so intense he couldn't imagine not screaming, but if he was, he couldn't hear it. He could only hear, only feel the power boiling in his mind. Power. Not his. Someone else's, and it was raging in his mind, grabbing, ripping, tearing apart.

And then Harry knew no more.

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He awoke to two frightened faces hovering in his vision, as well as a crowd of other children gathered around him. He tried to blink the harsh light out of his eyes, it hurt too much.

"Harry? He's awake Hermione!" He vaguely heard a voice call out. It was like his head was packed in a thick fog. Where was he? What had happened? He tried to recall something, anything, but all his mind could dig up was betrayal. Someone had betrayed him, but who? Was it that other boy who had spoken? Perhaps. Was it that girl with the bushy hair clinging to his hand? No, she seemed to care too much. Those who you think care are the ones who rip you apart, something in his mind told him. 

"Harry, Harry, can you hear me?" the girl asked. Harry? Who was Harry? He knew nothing of this Harry. Only one thing was planted in his mind: betrayal. He shut his eyes tightly as another headache came upon him, a single voice, crying out from the depths of the fog, clawing its way to the surface. No! Get out of my mind! Let me back in control! Noooooooooooo…

"NO!" Harry cried out, his arms flailing wildly about him. The cluster of students backed off quickly, leaving only Hermione and Neville standing by him. Harry opened his eyes and looked around. "Why am I on the floor?" he asked Hermione and he grabbed a chair and pushed himself to a sitting position. "Guys?"

Hermione shooed the worried students away and knelt down to Harry's level. "You started screaming," she said gently, "clutching your head, and then you fell to the floor in a fit. I was afraid you were having a seizure. Then you woke up and didn't seem to recognize any of us." Harry blinked. Something nagged at the back of his mind. "Is it… You-Know-Who?" Hermione whispered.

Harry shook his head, "No. It was my head, not my scar. We—all of us, we've been betrayed by someone. Someone here at Hogwarts," he took a deep breath, trying to grasp that information that had been implanted in his mind, "I don't know." Hermione looked skeptically at him, but then decided that it was not a good time to start doubting Harry, but there was still that small seed, planted in her mind. Dumbledore thought something was wrong with his mind, now Harry has a fit. Can he really be trusted?

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Harry sat by the lake that night, staring into the night sky. He took his wand from his pocket and touched it to his forearm, drawing it slowly across the tender flesh, leaving a trail of crimson life in its wake. Control, he was in control, no one could take this control away from him no matter how they tried to invade his brain. He stared at the blood as it welled up to the surface and then poured out, trailing in rivulets across the length of his arm and spilling onto the frozen ground. This was his only escape. This was his only stronghold. This. This control. This… power…


End file.
